Prirodna's Children

14 DECEMBER 3460

After a good night's sleep, Winnacer is indeed up bright and early and walks downstairs at 6.30 in order to take breakfast at the bar. While he is eating, the two squires show up, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and yawning, having obviously dragged themselves out of bed only moments before. Will is the next to join the others and then, just as they are about to head out to the yard in order to start the sparring practice, Aithne joins them as well, having returned to the inn some time in the night.

As they get outside, they find that the temperature is still absolutely freezing, with the snow in the yard crackling underfoot. The first rays of sunlight are just starting to appear over the horizon as they set to work on their sparring.

Winnacer spends half of the session with the squires, working through the basics with them once again, pitting them against each other and against himself. He teaches them about striking efficiently and works them through parrying drills to tighten their defenses.

He then asks Will and Aithne if either of them wish to train with him. He initially looks a bit sloppier than normal, as he relies less on his strong parry and actually seems to be practicing his shield work. His strikes are also not nearly as exacting as his comrades are used to, but the tempo of his strikes is much quicker. He runs through these quicker strikes quite a bit, becoming more comfortable with them as the duels run on.

Aithne enjoys watching the fighting, curious about the shield work, as she's never carried one.

After a few minutes, Winnacer reverts back to his more comfortable fighting styles and gives Milan a good workout, teaching those less skilled than him and listening intently to Aithne's criticism of his technique. He then calls the squires back over to work on two-on-one drills.

Will seems to be particularly keen on sparring this day. Unlike his normal defensive, conservative practice style, he fights full force with no reservation, a veritable whirlwind of attacks raining down upon his opponent from every angle stopping just short of drawing blood, the likes of which none have seen from him except a few times in battle.

Tadeus is the first to spar with Will while Winnacer and Milan continue to spar together on the opposite side of the yard. The 13-year-old lad is no match at all for the fast half-elf and Will brutally overcomes the squire's feeble defenses and forces him to submission, stopping suddenly at the last instant when doubts began to arise as to whether or not he would stop.

He then holds the yielded Tadeus pinned momentarily at blade point and speaks coldly:

"Our enemies would grant no quarter nor accept surrender."

He then steps back and lets someone else practice.

Tadeus was not prepared for this reaction at all from the normally mild-mannered half-elf and seems to be frozen in terror. He lies on the floor in the cold snow looking shocked for a moment before he quietly starts sobbing to himself.

Aithne watches Will's style on the practice ground and frowns.

Winnacer shoots the bard a dour look:

"Teach them - don't scare them."

Will's mood is unchanged. At Winnacer's words he replies:

"We must learn to overcome fear and remain constant through battle despite fears. Had I done so in the temple, lives may not have been lost."

He then helps the petrified squire up from the ground:

"Fight on," Will says to him grimly. "Let me point out your strengths and weaknesses."

Tadeus has had enough for the day though. He pulls his hand away from the bard and runs into the inn, sobbing to himself as he goes.

"Bully," Aithne murmurs.

Then in a louder voice:

"But likewise, you should not take out your fears and weaknesses on others. That is no way to teach freedom from fear. All it does is teach fear of you. And that is not a good lesson learned."

The bard glances at the new woman and then turns back to Milan who is looking back at him with a mixture of fear and hatred evident:

"You have nothing to fear from me. I will never intentionally harm you. You have everything to fear from our enemies. You must learn to best the fears within you and your opponents in mortal combat."

He then sheaths his swords:

"Excuse me. Now may not be the best time for me to engage in drills with others."

And he walks away to solitude once again.

Aithne looks after him with some concern. She starts to call out to him, then stops. Sometimes one needs to be alone to heal.

Once alone again in a quiet place, Will collapses to the ground and weeps uncontrollably. After some time, he raises his head upward and prays fervantly for the aid of the good gods to end the bloodshed.

Aithne spends more time sparring with Milan and Winnacer, who picks up on her mood. She never gets angry or cold when she once or twice is bettered by Winnacer and is obviously willing to show a trick or style in which she manages to best the LawBringer in return with a few choice maneuvers of her own. Her bouts are spiced with laughter as she takes a simple joy in her skill with blade and bow.

She spars with her long sword and her short sword. When Winnacer asks, she spars with one in each hand, and then changes to having her long sword in one and a dagger in the other. For a change, she then picks up an old broom handle lying in the snow and uses that as well. Her style is mostly movement, moreso than strength, and her light armor gives her the freedom and mobility her fighting style requires.

Their sparring is interrupted by the appearance of the Padre. He is red in the face and his knuckles are white as they are wrapped around his morningstar:

"Where's th' bard?" he bellows, obviously furious. "Frightenin' th' lad like tha'. It's time tha' I taught him t' pick on someone 'is own size."

Winnacer walks over to the enraged priest and lays a calming hand upon his shoulder:

"It's OK, Padre," he says softly. "Will has been badly effected by the events of the past week, as have we all to a greater or lesser extent. He didn't mean any harm to the boy, I'm sure of it."

The LawBringer's words serve to calm him a little:

"Well .. . p'raps ye're right. But if 'e ever pulls a stunt like that again, he'll find 'imself getting' a lesson from me."

Winnacer calls over to Milan and Aithne:

"I think that's enough practice for the day. Let's all warm up with a glass of hot toddy before we decide our itinerary for the day."

The three of them head inside and get a warm glass of rum. While they are drinking, feeling the warmth of the liquor pulsing through their bodies, Yaz comes in to join them, having been out to perform his morning devotions:

"So what's on the agenda for today, everyone?" Winnacer asks.

Aithne just shrugs.

"Today I'm going off to check out the parish of Prirodna," Yaz replies. "It's about time that I found out a little bit more about what the other druids are up to. I've pretty much had to pick up everything as I go along."

He looks over at Aithne:

"D'ya fancy coming along? Be nice to walk around somewhere where there isn't cobblestones under your feet and walls everywhere you look, huh?"

Aithne smiles and nods:

"Yes, it's about time that I got out of this place too. I'll come with you."

Winnacer speaks up next:

"I wouldn't mind coming too, if you don't mind. I'd like to see what your kind get up to."

"Alright then," Yaz replies, "but remember what you promised. Don't start showing me up by getting all Judgemental on them."

"I promise," the LawBringer replies. "As you respect my religion, I can respect yours."

The four of them finish their drinks and head off. Winnacer speaks to Milan as gets up to come with them:

"I think it would be a good idea if you spent a little time with Tadeus and the Padre today. Tadeus is badly shaken and, after tomorrow, you won't be seeing him for a while."

Milan nods and heads off to the stables to hook up with Tadeus.

Yaz, Aithne and Winnacer, meanwhile, head off towards the northeast part of the city, a part that they have not yet been to before. As they make their way through the cold streets and leave the well kept parish of Spravedelna, cutting back through the parish of Kitry, the quality of the housing deteriorates rapidly as they enter what is known as the parish of the Elder Gods. This parish is jointly run by the smaller churches of the first generation of gods including Dazbag, the Sun God, Perun the Storm God and Zemnye, the Earth God. As the popularity of the gods has lessened, so has the size of their parishes, until they were amalgamated into one. The shops and houses here are very run down, and the area is home to many of the area's remaining nonhumans, mostly dwarves. In part of the area, the rows of tiny houses are completely empty, as if it were a ghost town. From the names on some of the faded signs above empty boarded up shops and taverns, the threesome realize that the reason for the area's emptiness is because this was formerly the halfling and gnomish ghetto areas.

They carry on through the lonely, empty streets until they see that the buildings have petered out and there is now an expanse of parkland ahead of them. They leave the cobbled streets behind them and start to walk through the layer of untouched white snow lying upon the ground.

It is hard to make out because of the blanket of snow, but they can see that this area must be beautiful in the summer, as there are carefully cropped hedgerows and expanses of square cut earth that must be flowerbeds in season. The trees here are all in rows, forming wide boulevards through the park.

As they continue onwards, however, the regimented gardens begin to break up and the park seems to be nothing more than a piece of wasteland, as if they were walking in the midst of the countryside. Yaz and Aithne realize that they must be getting close to the center of the parish of Prirodna.

They walk through a quite densely packed area of woodland, which is alive with the sound of birdsong and seems to be teeming with all forms of woodland creatures, with squirrels running along the branches and rabbits, badgers and foxes peer up at them from between the roots of the old trees.

Soon, the woodland finishes and they find themselves in a clearing. In the center of the clearing is a huge stone circle, surrounding which is what appears to be a shanty town made up of small huts of wattle and daub. They can see that this is like a small village of its own, with many people visible, all of them wearing green robes of various tones.

Yaz seems to be getting very excited as he sees the sight and leads Aithne and Winnacer into the village. As they walk into the center of the village, he sees that the inhabitants are split between humans and elves, with several half-elves in amongst them. For once, Yaz and Aithne don't feel as if they stand out from the crowd in the way they normally do.

As well as the elves and humans, the place is teeming with animals of all kind, wandering around the village as they please. There are dogs of all shapes and sizes, several cats as well as larger creatures including the occasional bear.

The people in the village seem to be very happy, although they are obviously rather cold as the majority of them are sat around large bonfires. No one seems to be working at all, but rather seems to be having a god time, smoking joints and drinking hot herbal tea. The air is heavy with the scent of marijuana.

Although Yaz and Aithne feel quite at home here, Winnacer in his armor and smart clothes stands out like a fish out of water and he gets a few stares from the villagers.

One of the villagers shouts out to him:

"Hey, tin man, come and have a smoke with us. Bring your friends too."

They look round to see that the villager is dressed in a similar manner to all the others. His green robes are dirty and falling to pieces and it looks as if he hasn't bathed in several weeks from the filth encrusted on his face. The man's head is shaven in places, with several tattoos visible and piercings in both ears, his nose, eyebrow and lip. He doesn't smell too good either.

Although Winnacer is a little unsure, Yaz makes a beeline for the man, who immediately hands him a joint. Yaz takes a long toke, breathing the smoke out through his nose:

"Hey, not bad at all," he says.

"Say, I never seen you around before," the man says. "You new in town?"

"Yeah," Yaz replies. "Just passing through with my friends. Wanted to see if I could have a word with the big guy."

"The Arch-Druid?" the man enquires. "Sure, I can take you too him in a moment. Sit down and have a hot cup of nettle tea first."

"By the way, I'm Moon Dancer, how about you?"

"Yaz," Yaz replies. "Yaz Charaz, and these are my friends Aithne and Winnacer."

"Come on over and join us," Moon Dancer beckons, and so they do.

The three of them share mugs of tea with the villagers and then Moon Dancer stands up:

"So, let me show you to the Arch-Druid then," he says.

He leads them past the other villagers around the outside of the circle to a clearing in the trees. Here they see an elderly elf, who is sat with his arm around a gigantic oak tree. The elf has a large green cat sleeping at his feet and a hawk upon his shoulder.

"Oh," says Moon Dancer looking at the elf. "He's in council with his advisor at the moment. Let's just wait a bit. I'm sure he won't be much longer."

They stare at the elf and see that he seems to be engrossed in conversation with the oak tree, nodding sagely, then talking and occasionally laughing while looking at the tree. After five minutes, the elderly elf stands up, shakes the oak firmly by the branch and then walks over to the waiting group, the large green cat rubbing against his legs as he moves.

"Hi, Cil, I've got a visitor for you," Moon Dancer says.

The Arch-Druid walks over with a smile on his face and greets the three of them warmly.

"Always good to see some new faces," he says. "Let's go over to the fire and have a chat. It's freezing my bollocks off standing round here."

They walk back with the Arch-Druid, back to the bonfire where they just came from. The Arch-Druid squeezes among the scruffy villagers. Winnacer, Yaz and Aithne all find a space around the fire and kneel down also.

Aithne watches wide-eyed and wondering. She takes a friendly nature priest up on an offer of holy weed and sits and smokes while the others discuss official Church business. Alas, she is not used to such strong stuff and quickly becomes rather giggly;even more so than usual.

All in all, she has a most pleasant time there.

"Fancy some tea?" asks Cil, helping himself to a battered dirty mug.

"Just had some, thanks," Yaz replies.

The Arch-Druid takes a sip and smacks his lips before looking to Yaz:

"So you're one of us, are you?"

"Yep," replies Yaz. "I'm an initiate of Prirodna."

Cil nods:

"Cool. What rank are you at the moment?"

Yaz shrugs:

"I dunno. No one's ever told me before."

"Well, have you done any shapeshifting yet?"

Yaz nods:

"Just started to," he replies.

The Arch-Druid looks pretty impressed:

"Well, that would make you an Initiate of the 7th Circle then. You must have earned some serious favors off Our Lady to be an Initiate so young."

"Well, I dunno," replies Yaz.

"So, I expect I'll be seeing you at the moot in Tabor next week then. It's going to be quite a party this year," Cil grins.

Yaz looks confused:

"What's a moot?"

"You mean you don't know?" Cil replies. "It's a big meeting of all the druids in the domain to celebrate the Winter Solstice. We get together to talk about important stuff, but we like to get that over with quickly and then get on with partying."

"Sounds pretty good," Yaz replies. "Shame I can't be there."

"Why ever not?" Cil asks. "Every druid of the 7th Circle has GOT to be there, or to have a good reason why not."

Yaz shakes his head:

"I'd love to go, but I promised my pals I'd help to save some dwarven city from disease priests and evil ratmen. Y'know, they're planning on f***ing with the Balance big time up there, so I've got to go."

"Oh well," Cil replies, "perhaps at the Spring Equinox then."

"It's a shame that you're not there, because we're going to be celebrating the good news."

"What good news?" asks Yaz.

"Haven't you heard about the Slovenes?" Cil asks. "They're on their way. They could be here any time in the next few months."

"And that's good news?" Yaz asks.

Cil looks quite surprised by the question:

"Well of course it's good news. The Slovenes are Prirodna's children that haven't been fouled by the corruption of the cities. They're going to smash down the walls and then smash down all the buildings and all the other Civ-crap and have everyone getting back to living in huts and living off the land again."

"Oh," Yaz replies. "I hadn't really thought of it in that way."

"Sure," the Arch-Druid replies. "We're all going to be giving them a good helping hand when they get here, I can tell you."

Winnacer remains quiet, although his eyes are obviously screaming. He looks at Yaz hopefully, his face full of horror.

Yaz goes quiet for a moment, deep in thought.

"So," he says slowly, "lemme get this straight. You're gonna help destroy the city?"

Cil lights up another joint, exhaling the thick smoke through his nose after taking his first drag:

"Yup, that's right."

"What about the Civs who live here?" Yaz asks. "Maybe they were born to be Civs. What if Prirodna likes them living in cities?"

Cil shakes his head:

"She doesn't work like that," he replies in a neutral fashion. "Nyemetz were born to be the treemurderers and Civs were born to be Civs, but that doesn't mean that what they're doing is right."

He gestures around him, towards the wall and to the hundreds of spires of the city visible above the treetops:

"You think that She meant Civs to mess up Her beautiful realm with all that stone crap?" he asks. "Not a chance. The Civs have been screwing with the Balance for generations and now it's time for things to change back again. The Slovenes are part of the solution. They're not the problem."

"What are you gonna do when all the Civs who lose their homes go out into the forest and start cutting down trees to make new homes and new cities?" Yaz asks in response. "Then what?"

Cil just shrugs:

"There shouldn't be as many of them around when the Slovenes have finished with them. The Slovenes will probably eat quite a few of them. It's about time that someone did. That's always the problem when you get a race that manages to get to the top of the food chain unchallenged."

"When there are less Civs around, then the Balance will be restored. There are just too many of them for Prirodna's realm to cope with at the moment. With less of them to house, then Prirodna's realm will be able to sustain itself again."

Yaz is getting more and more excited, and louder:

"What about the Nyemetz? What about the Balance? You think bringing down the city is more important than restoring the Balance by removing the Nyemetz and their grove-raping lackeys from power over the land?"

Cil remains calm, probably as a result of the substance that he is smoking:

"That's why She has sent the Slovenes," he replies. "The Slovenes will kick the Nyemetz out of the country and that's for sure. The Slovenes are able to live at one with Her realm. There won't be any more grove-raping once the Slovenes have brought the country back to where it was before the Civs and the Nyemetz screwed with the Balance."

Yaz is standing now, and nearly shouting.

He takes a long toke, and visibly relaxes. He continues, quieter:

"I think your plan is f***ed," he says matter-of-factly, "and I'm gonna keep on killing Nyemetz until the Balance is restored. You guys can do what you want... but Prirodna knows the forests are better served by killing the tree-razers than by knocking down city walls. F***."

"Sure," Cil replies, sipping from his tea. "We don't have any problem in killing Nyemetz. They deserve it. But killing them alone isn't going to restore the Balance. Just make sure that you don't end up coming down too strongly on one side, though. Remember that good and evil, law and chaos are all necessary to keep the Balance. We prefer to take a passive rather than active role in these matters, helping whichever force needs our assistance the most, as that is Prirodna's way."

Winnacer, who had been sitting shock quiet through the whole conversation, nods in approval to Yaz' words. He even manages a half-smile.

Yaz is silent for a moment, deep in thought. He then speaks to Cil once more:

"D'ya know where I can get a new golden sickle from? Those tree-murdering Nyemetz bastards stole my old one and I'm getting low on harvested grass."

"Those Nyemetz bastards," Cil replies. "I can't wait to see the Slovenes giving them a good twatting."

"Anyway, yeah, a golden sickle. Sure. Go over to the parish of Zelezny and ask around for a blacksmith by the name of Lubosh Gladriel. Everyone in the parish knows him, because he's the only half-elven blacksmith in the city. Tell him I sent you and he'll give you a good deal."

"Thanks," Yaz replies.

The three of them say their goodbyes to the Prirodna-folk and start to head back towards the urban part of the city. It is quite obvious that Winnacer is still very concerned regarding the Arch-Druid's thoughts regarding the Slovenes.

As they see sight of the city through the trees, Yaz speaks to the others:

"I think I'm going to head straight over to the parish of Zelezny and meet up with that Lubosh Gladriel guy," Yaz says. "I don't know how long it's going to take him to make that gold sickle and so it's probably best to get him working on it right away."

"I'll come with you," Winnacer adds. "I've been meaning to find a blacksmith myself to make some copy of the depleted warpstone shot."

"Y'coming too?" Yaz asks Aithne.

She shrugs:

"Can't think of anything better to do."

The three of them walk out of the park and back through the parish of the Elder Gods. It takes them just five minutes to walk through the area and into the parish of Zelezny, which is to the west. It's easy to know when they've reached the parish, as they can hear the sound of metal being beaten everywhere. There are also several stables in the area and warehouses full of coal and iron ore. The Arch-Druid's information was correct in regards to the fact that everyone in the small parish knows Lubosh Gladriel and they find his forge after just a couple of minutes.

They walk into his hot, sweaty little forge to see the most muscular half-elf that any of them have ever seen. As he sees the three of they walk in, he immediately stops work on the horseshoe that he is in the middle of, wipes his sweaty brow and strides over to them, beaming as he does so.

He shakes Yaz and Aithne firmly by the hand, obviously delighted to meet up with a couple of his own kind, as half-elves make up just a tiny proportion of Bohavian society. He immediately starts speaking to the pair of them in elven, totally ignoring Winnacer:

"Hiya," he says to them. "Haven't seen you two around here before, you new in town?"

"Yes," Yaz replies. "Just passing through."

Lubosh looks at Aithne appreciatively:

"That's fine woman you've got yourself there," Lubosh grins. "You're a very lucky guy."

"Well, actually ..." Yaz starts and then lets it trail off.

Aithne smiles at Lubosh and runs her hand down Yaz's arm, batting her eyelashes at him, eyes twinkling merrily underneath.

"Anyway, what brings you here?" the blacksmith asks. "Don't see too many new faces."

"Cil suggested that we stop by," Yaz starts.

"How is the old guy?" Lubosh asks with a smile. "Still talking to plants?"

"Errm ... yes," Yaz replies. "I was asking him how I could get a new golden sickle. The Nyemetz swiped my last one."

"Bastards," Lubosh replies. "So you're one of those Druid types too then?"

"Not a Druid," Yaz replies. "An Initiate of the 7th Circle."

"Oh right," Lubosh replies, a little confused. "Anyway, you need a new golden sickle? No problem, I make all of the golden sickles for Cil and his folk. Have you brought the gold with you, or do you want me to get some?"

"I don't have any gold on me, I'm afraid," Yaz replies. "I changed them all for these little gems."

He holds out a fistful of small stones.

Lubosh looks with alarm at the stones.

"Careful, friend," he warns. "You don't want to let too many people know that you're walking around with that much on you. Gold and gems have a habit of walking in this city."

He reaches down and picks up two of the small stones:

"I reckon that these two should be enough to pay for the gold and my time," he says. "Is that OK with you?"

Yaz nods.

"Should have it ready for you to pick up by the end of tomorrow, if that's OK with you," Lubosh continues. "You'll have to bless it yourself once you get it, as I can't do that for you."

"Fine," Yaz replies.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asks.

"Well, my friend here, the Bohavian," Yaz grins, "he's got blue balls at the moment, but he wants to get some balls of steel as well."

Lubosh shakes his head:

"Have to be iron, I'm afraid. Steel is a son-of-a-bitch to work with."

Yaz turns to Winnacer and speaks to him in Bohavian:

"Hey, Winn, get your balls out and show them to the blacksmith."

"Huh?" Winnacer replies. "Oh yes, the shot."

Winnacer reaches into his backpack and carefully takes one of the depleted warpstone balls from it, which he has carefully wrapped with sackcloth. He carefully unwraps it and shows it to Lubosh:

"You'll have to be careful with it," he warns. "Don't touch it with your bare hands."

Lubosh examines the purple colored shot carefully, shaking his head:

"I've never seen anything like that before," he says. "What is it?"

"Best not to ask," Yaz replies.

 "OK, my lips are sealed," Lubosh replies, changing from elven to common. "Shouldn't be a problem to knock you off some copies. It will cost me a gold piece to make the mold and a silver a piece for each ball. So how many do you want?"

"I think that ten shots will be fine for the moment," Winnacer replies. "Here is a gold piece for the mold, which I would like to take with me after the work has been completed, a gold for the ten shots and an extra gold piece for your troubles."

"Thank you very much," Lubosh replies.

"Should have them ready at the same time as the golden sickle," he finishes, "at the end of tomorrow."

"We also need to have our horses reshod," Winnacer adds. "I'm also interested in acquiring some barding for my mount, if that's something that you can help us with."

The half-elven blacksmith shakes his head:

"No problem with shoeing the horses," he replies. "That's what I do all the time. Barding's something else though. You'll need to see an armorer about that, as it's a bit outside my league. I hope you don't need it in a hurry, either. Unless you're OK with leather, then it will have to be fitted and that takes a few days. A lot of days if you're in the market for plate."

Winnacer nods:

"Well thank you for your help. I shall send the squires round with the horses tomorrow if you would be kind enough to see to them."

"No problem," Lubosh replies.

Yaz and Aithe thank Lubosh for his help and then the three of them head off out of the parish:

"So where to now?" asks Yaz.

"We might as well head off back to the 'One Elm' and see what's going on there," replies Winnacer.

The three of them head back to the inn and find that there isn't much going on there at all. Milan and Tadeus, who are in the stables looking after the horses, tell them that Will hasn't returned since he ran out after the sparring and the Padre went back to the Fortress of Radegast. There seems to be very few people in the inn at all.

Aithne stays behind to check out the horses. She uses her own simple skill to see how they are doing, murmuring and cooing to them; helping Milan and Tadeus with the grooming, and seeing if she can find a handful of sweet feed or possibly an apple for Nainie.

"Now seems to be as good a time as any to check out those chests that we got from the Nemotz temple but didn't want to open before," suggests Yaz. "I've asked Prirodna for some help in finding out whether they are trapped and dealing with them if they are. I took the chests off the wagon and put them in my room when we moved the gear last night."

"Sounds like a good idea," Winnacer replies.

The two of them head up to Yaz' room and take a look at the small chests. Yaz stands in front of them and starts to utter an incantation. Once it is completed, both of the chests start glowing.

"Yup," Yaz says, "they're both trapped alright. Good job we didn't mess with them while we were in the Temple. My spell to break the wood open should get us pass them, though."

"I think it would be best if we were to open them up outside in the yard," Winnacer says. "We did promise the Chief Justice that we'd try very hard not to burn this inn down."

"Fair enough," Yaz says. "Let's carry them out there."

The pair of them carry the chests out and deposit them on the far side of the yard.

"My spell works from a long distance away and so we can stand as far back as we like," Yaz says.

The pair of them walk back to the back door of the inn and then stand behind the ajar door as Yaz begins to cast before he points towards the first of the chests. There is a mighty creaking sound as the wood begins to buckle and then they look on as three darts fly from the front of the chest. As they had left the chests with the front facing the rear wall of the yard, the darts harmlesly imbed themselves into the wall.

"One down, one to go," says Yaz as he starts to repeat the incantation.

Once again, the chest starts to creak as the wood starts to buckle before splitting apart. As it does so, the pair of them look on to see a glowing symbol appear in the air above the chest. Immediately, Yaz and Winnacer feel their eyelids growing heavy before they fall to the ground unconscious.

"Hey, no sleeping on the job now," is the next thing they hear.

The pair of them look up to see the grinning face of Aithne above them. Winnacer and Yaz groan.

"Good to see that you're back with us," Aithne says. "You've been out for well over an hour."

They pick themselves up and head over to see what the broken chests contain.

"Hey, we've got enough gems to open a jewellers' shop of our own now," Yaz says as he looks inside.

Inside the box are 26 tiny yellow sunstones, two large black pearls, three emeralds, a large sapphire, four topazes and five small diamonds.

"Not bad by the look of it," Winnacer says, not having a clue as to what all this lot is worth.

"Pretty," Aithne comments, then leaves the two to their appraisal once more.

They move on to have a look at the other broken box. It contains a very valuable looking necklace set containing six pieces of jade plus two platinum rings with intricate engravings on them. In addition, there are two potions, three scrolls and three cones of incense.

"We should have it evaluated, both for cost and for magikal properties. Think you can handle the latter, Yaz?"

"Sure," Yaz replies. "But it will have to be tomorrow. I haven't asked Prirodna to bless me with the powers to detect magick today."

They scoop up the haul from the boxes and place them in a sack, which Yaz then hides in his room along with the rest of his gear.

By now it is getting quite dark:

"I'm getting pretty hungry now, as we didn't have time for lunch," says Winnacer.

"I'm up for an early dinner. What about the pair of you?" he asks Aithne and Yaz.

"As long as we don't go back to the 'Beaucoup d'Argent'," Aithne grins.

"No," Winnacer replies. "Let's just eat at the inn."

The three of them head into the inn, which is starting to fill up with a few customers now that the working day has finished. They sit down at a table and order their meal. It arrives shortly afterwards and they start eating.

Halfway through the meal, the door opens and they see that Faewen'il has decided to grace them with her presence. They see that she is not alone. With her, they see a rough looking fellow in his late twenties. He is of average height, just under six feet tall. He has short brown hair, and brown eyes that frequently dart back and forth. He has a solid build. His clothes, neither close nor loose fitting, are of dark tones. He has a hefty belt pouch, but no backpack. Upon close examination, a couple of bulges are visible, one underneath his arm, another at the small of his back.

Aithne frowns at the pair of them as they enter. Faewen'il scowls back at her in response.

Winnacer looks on, his face devoid of any sentiment.

Aithne turns to Winnacer:

"I believe your friend might have better luck at finding those whose skills you seek. She seems to prefer their company anyway."

She shrugs and goes back to her meal, neither ignoring nor paying any special attention to Fae or her friend.

"The question is, does this solve our problem, or does it create new problems?" asks Winnacer.

Winnacer peers closely at the newcomer.

"I'm not too sure about this one."

After a moment, Winnacer waves them over to the table where they are sitting, getting up to get two more chairs.

The man with Fae hesitates to accept the offered chair, waiting for the young woman to say or do something first. His eyes fall upon each of the persons gathered in the One Elm, taking his measure of them. Perhaps growing impatient, he extends his hand to Winnacer, saying only:

"Porter."

Winnacer accepts his hand, returning a firm handshake:

"A pleasure to meet you. I am Winnacer Duene Stradheim, LawBringer of Spravedelna. "

He introduces the others in turn:

"It seems that you have already met our other associate. I assume that you are here about a job, of sorts. Or am I mistaken?"

Porter looks a bit confused:

"A job?"

After a brief pause, he nods:

"Oh, Fae did mention you all could use some certain skills I may have some expertise with. It was my impression that I would be in for a cut, rather than a set fee, as I usually work."

"That is true, if you are suitable for what we need, you will certainly be entitled to a full share," Winnacer replies. "But before we talk of wages, may I enquire a bit about your credentials and what exactly you think that you'll be joining us to do?"

Porter looks over at Fae, as if to say: "

Is he serious?"

Turning back to Winnacer, he says:

"We'll, my "credentials" include over five years of manhunting throughout Bohavia. I've brought so many men in, I've lost track. In the process, I've learned a few things that Fae thinks you might have a use for, as I often need to 'let myself in' somewhere, or avoid a boobytrap someone has set up for their protection. Also, I have done the occasional 'hit', so I don't have any aversion to killing, if it comes to that. I figured I'd be joining you all to help you out with those things, since I take it you guys don't have the stomach for that kind of thing."

Winnacer looks Porter up and down, his face somewhat disappointed. He then looks at Aithne and Yaz, searching for their approval.

Neither of them seems to have any strong objections to the newcomer.

"Well, I guess you will do," Winnacer replies. "Not like we have a whole lot of choice, or time."

Winnacer sighs:

"Porter, you have some very big shoes to fill. And something to realize. If you are joining us, you need to know that what we are going against is a bit bigger quarry than your typical bounty hunt. We are often the targets of hostile magicks and have fought creatures that have no place upon this earth. Our enemy slew four of our number when last we met, men who would describe themselves as experienced as yourself. Our last companion with your skills met his end punctured with ten darts coated with adder's taint. This is not going to be an easy job, and you should be aware of the great risks you are assuming by traveling with us. It would be Injust not to warn you of this."

Winnacer's talk of the danger of joining the group doesn't seem to faze Porter, who either doesn't seem to be bothered by or it, or simply has too much bravado to let it show.

"You must also realize that this party works under the auspices of numerous Gods, especially Spravedelna and Prirodna," Winnacer continues. "So no funny business....and be nice to the animals. Treat the beliefs of your comrades with respect and we all should get along famously."

Porter catches himself before he rolls his eyes, thinking he knew he wasn't going to like this Lawbringer.

Winnacer then relaxes a bit, almost cracking a smile.

"With that all said, I guess I should say welcome aboard. Let me buy you a drink."

Porter thinks:

"Then again, maybe I will."

His face brightens:

"Ah, yes, a drink is not a bad idea at all."

Winnacer buys a round for all assembled and they all spend half an hour drinking together and chatting. Then, after a short while longer, Faewen'il and her new friend depart once more, giving no clue as to where they are going or when they are likely to return.

As they leave, they pass Padre Kokal in the doorway.

Winnacer, still shaking his head regarding what to do about the magess and her new friend, greets the Padre as he enters:

"Padre, please sit for a while and drink with us."

"Don't mind if I do," the Padre replies, sitting down at one of the chairs vacated by the recently departed twosome and helping himself to a bottle of wine.

"I was wondering if you could tell us a little about what you know regarding the Slovene situation, Padre?" Winnacer asks. "We heard from the Library of Kitry that the Church of Radegast is paying the closest attention to their movements."

"Aye," the Padre replies, nodding. "The Church o' Radegast 'as been organizin' a committee made up o' many o' th' Faiths o' th' city t' plan f'r what might 'appen if'n th' Slovenes besiege Olmutz."

"From what we've 'eard, the Slovenes 'ave an army tha's managed t fight through th' Nyemetz lines t' th' southeast o' th' city. They're still 60 miles from 'ere a' th' moment, an' they's still got t'cross th' River Bechka afore they can lay seige t'Olmutz, but a prize such as th' city must be a major objective f'r them."

The Padre shrugs:

"I 'ope that it won't come to it, but it's best t' be prepared."

Winnacer thinks about it for a few seconds:

"You know, perhaps we can figure out a way to use this to our advantage. It may be smart to try to open some diplomatic relations with the Slovenes. If we play our cards right, perhaps we can use their threat of force to flush the Nyemetz out of the cities. The Slovenes will probably wish to avoid the combined wrath of the Gods of this city if possible, if they truly wish to conserve their strength to better fight the Nyemetz."

"Hmmm....."

"In any case, somebody certainly should go speak to them at some point, at least to try to judge their intent. If Hrust is like any of the rest of them, they may be more reasonable than we imagine. I'd do it, but Spravedelna needs me in Opava."

They continue to chat with the Padre and amongst themselves for a couple more hours and then decide to head for their beds, knowing that the following day will be the last one in the city and that there is much to do before they can leave. Will arrives later on in the evening, heading to the inn just before curfew.